Chapter 9
nine
Olivia looked amazing in the midst of her orgasm. Her skin dewy and flushed, her eyes glazed. Her hair tousled, her mouth open wide. Even though she was still wearing her T-shirt and bra, her tits moved beautifully as I thrust into her hot, wet body. She looked as if she had completely let go, had given in to the chemistry we created together. We were combustible.
I had thought I would take her to my bedroom, give her some attention, coax her to an orgasm. But then she had squeezed my cock and that was that. Here I was, nailing her against the wall.
Hell, from the minute she had kissed me, I’d been gone. She had this tough exterior and ballsy words, but her eyes spoke to me. This was a woman who hadn’t been given enough attention in her life. I didn’t have a lot of time. She’d only given me now, so I wanted her to remember it, remember this. “This is us,” I told her. “It’s real. None of this is an act. It’s completely, one-hundred percent real.”
“Oh, God,” she said. “It feels so good.”
I swallowed hard, in danger of completely losing control. She did things to me that I couldn’t wrap my head around. Things I didn’t want to acknowledge.
“It feels amazing. You’re amazing.”
Once her own orgasm subsided her eyes widened and she gave a sexy satisfied smile. “You like that?”
“Fuck, yeah.” I was gripping her ass hard and pumping while she dug her nails into my shoulders.
But then she abandoned my arms to pull her shirt over her head and toss it onto the floor. It gave me a great view of her tits bursting over the top of her disheveled bra. Swearing softly, I knew she’d done it on purpose. She was trying to push me off a cliff. My balls tightened and it worked. I burst, locking eyes with her. I refused to look away. I had to see what I did to her. She had to see what she did to me.
The moment went on and on, powerful and aggressive.
She looked away first and I let her. My shoulders were tense, my legs straining. I paused, breathing hard. “Holy shit.”
Then she completely caught me off guard and gave me a smirk. “You’re welcome.”
I laughed. “Smart and sassy. I love it.”
“Back up, my calves are killing me.”
I obeyed immediately. I hadn’t realized she was up on her toes. I should have held more of her weight. But I hadn’t noticed because I had been too busy diving full on into her pussy. “Sorry.” I pulled out and stepped back, brushing her hair from her cheek and forehead.
She went down onto flat feet, but stayed propped against the wall. “I’m not sure I can move.”
That was satisfying, I had to admit. I’d made her weak in the knees. “Good,” I told her. “That means I’ve done my job.”
Olivia rolled her eyes. “Settle down. Nobody is giving away any medals today.”
Giving my jock an adjustment I grinned at her. “No? Geez. Tough crowd. Not even a bronze?”
“I’m still working on the scoring system.” She flipped her bra back into place. “I’ll keep you posted.”
That kind of killed my vibe. She wasn’t going to keep me posted because this was it. We weren’t going to see each other again. She seemed to realize that, as well, because immediately she bent over to grab her pants, looking flustered. When she stood, her hair fell forward and her cheeks were red.
“You’re bleeding again,” she said. “I should have bandaged it. What the hell is wrong with me?” Rushing across the kitchen with her jeans in her hand, she grabbed the washcloth off the counter and turned to me, trying to delicately swipe at the dried and fresh blood.
“It’s okay, Olivia. I’m fine. This isn’t even worth a bandage at this point.”
She frowned at me. “You’ll get an infection.” Then she held out her hand. “Don’t say it. I know you’re not a wimp. Got it. You’re tougher than bullets.”
I sounded like an ass when she said it like that. I tapped my shoulder. “Yeah, well, this one got the best of me.” I wasn’t fully recovered from that bullet and I had the scar to prove it.
Olivia came over to me and traced my scar ever so lightly. “What happened?”
“Your brother-in-law threw a party and invited idiots. One was all hopped up on coke and booze and decided he hated Ricardo. I got Ricardo out of the way, but not myself in time.” It was a sore subject for me. I was still pissed about it.
“That doesn’t sound good.” Her face was pale. “Is there gunfire going on there frequently?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know.” I realized she wasn’t concerned about me, but about her sister. Maybe I should have played up my injury a little more. I did kind of like the attention, I wasn’t going to lie. “I don’t think your sister is usually around for those parties, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
“Where is she?”
“I don’t know.” I scratched my chin, realizing I had backed myself into a corner. “I don’t think she’s the, uh, kind of woman they want at those parties. It’s kind of a no-wives zone.”
“Ricardo is such a pig.” She was messing around with her panties. Half of her was still hanging out, thanks to me.
“Do you need help with that?” I asked, gesturing to her panty problem.
“What?” She glanced down. “No.”
I was amused. “You’re just doing a lot of digging. I thought I could help. It is my fault, after all.”
“You’re still not getting a medal.” She used her forefingers to slide under the fabric and ease it back into place.
How could she be so damned cute?
The indulgent thought was a warning sign. Fuck. I was falling for her. Time to take her home. But first, I had to make sure she would think the absolute worst of me. “Ricardo is having a party tomorrow. I’m working. You should go and I can sneak off and fuck you in the bushes.”
Even as I said it, I hated myself. This was what I did. If I felt uncomfortable or that a girl was too interesting to me, I made sure she no longer liked me. By being a complete smarmy asshole.
Her face leeched of color. “Give me my pants.” Olivia held her hand out for the jeans I had picked up, her face furious.
I passed them to her. “What’s the matter?
She made a sound of exasperation. “Just take me home. Now.”
“I thought you didn’t want to be alone.”
“I’d rather be alone right now.”
“You sure you don’t want more dick before you go?” There was a pit in my gut, but I was doing the right thing. It was far too tempting to just want to spend the rest of the day and night with her. I wanted to talk to her, get to know her, hold her in bed. Take her again, slowly this time, spend long minutes between her thighs with my tongue until she screamed my name.
“If you’re my only option, I’m good, thanks.”
She was pissed and she had every right to be. But I figured it was better to hurt her now than hurt her later when I bailed. Because I would. I couldn’t handle a relationship. “Why am I your only option?” I asked, smirking.
Olivia smacked me on the arm.
It caught me off guard enough that I winced. “What the hell?”
“Your determination to be a playboy isn’t cute. Stop it.”
That made me grin. It hadn’t hurt, I just wasn’t expecting it. “Relax.”
My plan was clearly working. She looked definitely annoyed.
Stepping into her jeans, she muttered to herself.
“What?” I asked.
But when she lifted her head, there were tears in her eyes. “Nothing.”
“Fuck.” I caved. “Shit, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be teasing you right now, I’m sorry.”
I’d never had a problem being a prick before, but now she teared up and I rolled.
“It’s fine, Wester. I get it. I’m a fun fuck. It’s a compliment, really.”
“Olivia.” Now I was at a loss. I reached for her and she shifted past me and went into the living room. I’d made her feel cheap and that made me feel like a true dirtbag.
“I’m ready to go.” She grabbed her backpack off the floor and waited for me by the front door.
It was for the best. I reminded myself of that. “Sure. Let me get a shirt.” I took my time, sauntering down the short hall to my bedroom and rustling through my dresser for a clean white undershirt. I pulled it on, trying not to get blood on it. I tucked it in to my dress pants and then went back to the kitchen to grab my keys.
She stood there, shoulders slumped, looking tired and dejected. Damn it, she made me feel so guilty. “Can you drive?” I asked her. “I think I drank too much whiskey.” It was a lie, but I wanted the option to watch her. Catch my last glimpses of her features, her profile.
“Sure. That way I don’t have to give you directions, either.”
“Great.” I handed her the keys.
She pulled out, a steady but fast driver and almost immediately whipped into a Walgreens drug store. Without a word, or asking me if I wanted anything, she went inside. I took that to mean my company wasn’t required. I sat in the car and waited, opening my own glove box. I had no idea what was even in there. I found condoms and spare bullets. And some soy sauce packets. If that didn’t sum up my fucked up life, I didn’t know what would.
Olivia came back and tossed a plastic bag at me. “Here.”
I peered inside and found a box of bandages and medical tape. I was touched, I admit it. “Thanks.”
She made a sound but said nothing. I did watch her as she drove. Her jaw was set and she gripped the wheel tightly, but she seemed to have gained control of her emotions by clinging to anger. I was fine with that. Having her pissed off was easier for me to swallow than her on the verge of tears.
I wanted to say something, but nothing felt right. So I just watched her. She knew it. Her shoulders stiffened. “What?” she asked finally.
“Nothing.”
“Then stop staring at me.”
“It’s a free country, kid.” But rather than make her even angrier, I did turn to face forward and stop watching her.
Olivia scoffed.
It wasn’t a long drive, but her neighborhood was nicer than mine, a mixture of large, suburban homes and college housing. She lived in a low apartment building. Nothing special, but nothing torn up, either. Just dated. Affordable. I walked her to the door even after she said I didn’t have to.
“Thanks.” She stopped without opening the door.
“Lock up after you go in,” I said. “And please, if anything seems off, call the cops or call me.”
She nodded. I figured she would be more inclined to call the cops than me, but so long as she was safe, I didn’t care.
“Are you okay to drive home? How much whiskey did you have?”
That touched me. She really was a good person. “I’m fine, I promise.” I brushed her cheek with the back of my hand. “Goodbye, beautiful. Take care of yourself.”
“You, too. Try to dodge bullets.”
That made me laugh softly. “Maybe if we had met a different way…” The minute I said it out loud I knew it was bullshit.
She did, too.
“We would have never met a different way.” She gave me a brief smile. “Or if we had we never would have said more than two words to each other. I’m not your type.”
“How do you know what my type is?”
“You liked my sister because you thought she was dumb and sweet.” Her nose wrinkled. “I am neither.”
There was enough truth to it that I was defensive. “What’s your type, nerd boys?”
“I don’t know what my type is,” she said quietly. “But I know it’s not…”
She stopped speaking, squeezing her lips together tightly.
I knew what she meant. It shouldn’t have hurt, but it did, like a nasty knife stab to the heart. I had purposely gone straight, yet I wasn’t good enough for her. I wasn’t good enough. “What, it’s not me? Too tall, dark, and sexy for you? You must hate orgasms.” Because when I was cut, I sliced back.
But her jaw dropped. “I wasn’t going to say you, jackass. I was going to say my type isn’t rich guys but that sounded wrong, so I stopped myself. What I really mean is I’m not into cheaters and drug dealers. Other than that, I’m not sure I have a type.”
Oh. Well, now I didn’t know what the fuck to say. “That’s a good plan,” I finally said. “Stay away from drug dealers.”
She gave me a thumb’s up. “I’ll do that, thanks.”
I crossed my arms over my chest and glanced past her to her apartment. Number twelve. I made a mental note. I’d never been awkward with women before but now I was. There was a wall between us that I hated. I wanted to be close to her, like we were when we were having sex. There was an intimacy with her I craved. I had been missing that connection and I didn’t even realize it until Olivia.
Yet, it wasn’t real. It wasn’t anything.
I leaned forward and gave her a quick kiss. “See you around. Now go inside. I’m not leaving until you lock this door.”
Her mouth opened and she was about to speak, but then she clamped it shut. She went in to her apartment and slammed the door behind her. I heard the dead bolt.
So I left.
In the car, seeing the bag with the bandages infuriated me. It illuminated that she was a good person, caring, kind. She had been worried about me. I didn’t need that. I didn’t want that. I didn’t deserve that.
I rolled down the passenger window and chucked the whole bag out onto the concrete. Fuck the medical tape.
I’d bleed and I would live.
Alone, the way I always had.
I leaned against my door and fought the tears that had been threatening me all day. I was raw, emotional. I felt like I needed to sleep for at least twelve hours, but I knew if I tried to lie down I’d never be able to rest. My mind was racing too fast. Glancing out the window, I saw Wester throw the bag I had bought at the drugstore out the window. Shocked, I gasped out loud.
“Asshole,” I whispered. Obviously he was just too damned tough to require antibacterial cream or a freaking bandage. I hoped he got a raging infection. It would serve him right.
He wasn’t my type. There was no way he should or could be my type. Yet, I couldn’t resist him. I had zero resolve against him. Which was why I never ever wanted to see him again. If I did, I would have sex with him and then I would attach and then he would break my heart. Hell, I had already attached.
Dropping my bag on the floor of the living room, I called my sister.
“Hello?”
“Are you okay?” I asked, that being my first concern.
“I’m fine. How are you?”
“Fine.” That might be overstating, but I’d recover. Now that we were both reassured, it was time to get real. “Do you understand that you’re married to a complete raging asshole?” I demanded. “And did you know he is involved in illegal drug deals?”
“Shush, Livvy! You can’t say stuff like that on the phone.”
Oh, really? That made my suspicions go sky high. “And how would you know about that, precisely?”
“CSI.”
That was bullshit. Eva didn’t watch crime shows. They scared her. “Did you or did you not know that shit was going down?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Her voice was ridiculously coy. Eva couldn’t lie her way out of a paper bag. “So what’s going on with you and Wester, hmm?”
“I don’t want to talk about it.” I didn’t. Not with anyone. I didn’t even want to think about it, because it made no sense that I gave a shit at all about him. He acted like a complete jerk. Talk about a commitment-phobe. I wasn’t even asking him for anything and he still worked incredibly hard to shove me away.
What irritated me the most though was that I wanted to see more of the real Wester. The Wester who was strong and interesting and loyal. Not the one who dropped lines like a DJ spins records, each one glossing over the one before.
“Sounds like you like him,” Eva said in a sing-song voice.
My sister was annoying me. “Eva. This isn’t high school. This isn’t cute. I was in danger. Wester got shot.”
“Olivia! You cannot talk about that on the phone.” Her voice grew sharp.
I knew then Eva had known about Ricardo’s illegal business dealings. The fact that she would be okay with that was stunning. That she wouldn’t share with me? Incomprehensible. We told each other everything . She relied on me for advice, for guidance. I was always her sounding board.
But not now. She had replaced me as her confidant with her worthless husband.
It made me deeply sad. Yet at the same time, I knew I had no intention of telling her anything about what had gone down between Wester and I. That was too private, too personal. Embarrassing. Special.
That word was wrong. All wrong.
“I need to go,” I said sharply to my sister. “Call me later.” I felt like telling her not to call me until she got back to Miami, but we talked every day. I couldn’t imagine going days without calling or texting Eva.
“OMG, fine.”
After the call ended, I stood in my living room and looked around. I wasn’t supposed to be back for another four days. My apartment was dark and quiet. I had turned the air conditioning down so I wouldn’t waste money cooling an empty apartment, so it was hot and stuffy inside. I cranked the a/c back up and chewed my lip. I didn’t know what to do with myself. I needed to get out, go somewhere, do something. I didn’t want to think about how it had felt to have a gun pulled on me. To be locked up.
Or how it felt to have Wester acting as my savior.
So I decided to call my best friend from college, Clara. “Hey, do you want to hang out today?”
“I thought you were at Chez Rich as Shit.”
“Yeah, well, that didn’t work out the way I’d hoped. Ricardo was being a dick.” That was probably the easiest way to explain what had happened.
“Well, there’s a shocker.” Clara gave a snort. She’d met Eva’s husband twice and hadn’t liked him at all. It was a reaction a lot of people had, apparently.
Except my sister.
“Can we go to the mall or something? I haven’t been to Merrick Park in forever.”
“Sure. Then let’s go out after.”
“To a bar?” The idea of a dark room with a hard stool and a bartender was appealing.
“Let’s go clubbing in SOBE.”
“Are you serious? We never go to South Beach.” Ugh. I had no desire. It was like heading right back to the scene I had just left—the epicenter of fake boobs and gelled hair. And cheetah heels.
“I want to wear hooker heels. I’m feeling fat and heels always fix that.”
I wasn’t sure hooker heels were going to fix what I was feeling. “I don’t know.”
The trauma of the night before had me feeling like someone was staring at me. I kept turning around and around in my apartment, expecting to find someone behind me. It was unnerving as hell. Then I had a thought. I glanced out the window and saw Wester’s car still parked there. He was watching me. What the hell?
I yanked open my front door and glared at him, waving my arms like a crazy person. He waved. A friendly wave. Like it wasn’t at all weird that he was just sitting in the parking lot outside my building.
“Clara, let me call you back.”
But when I tried to call Wester he didn’t answer. I texted him.
What are you doing?
He didn’t respond.
I went back inside. My phone buzzed.
Lock your door.
I did, but then I dragged a chair from the kitchen into the living room and propped it under the knob. I wasn’t sure who I was trying to keep out. I only knew I no longer felt safe in my own home, and I hated that.
I also no longer felt right in my own skin. I was thinking about Wester, about his body holding mine against the wall. My nipples tightened.
I called Clara back. “I’m in. Let’s hit the clubs.”
Anything to distract me from a certain sexy bodyguard.